


nonsense words

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Coulson has a peculiar reaction to painkillers. In front of Daisy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts).



“This is amazing,” Coulson says, looking at the bowl on the table.

“You realize I didn’t make this, right?” she says, finally tearing her gaze from the ugly-looking bandage in his neck. “I decided to pop out to the Chinese around the corner because hospital food sucks.”

“That’s even better,” he says. “The thought you put into it…you are so kind and thoughtful and...”

He trails off, like he’s floored. Geez, it’s just soup.

“Sour chicken. I asked for extra wantons,” she says, kind of lame, because she wants Coulson to know that she was thinking about him, _extra_ , that she was worrying.

“You’re amazing,” he says, looking at the container with the soup like Daisy had just given him pure gold.

His voice is all… weird.

She notices. At first she thought it was it hoarse, from having been under while they worked on the bullet hole near his neck. But it’s not just that. He sounds light and dreamy and… _oh_.

“You’re a bit high, aren’t you?”

Coulson blushes in quite the aggressive manner.

“What? No.”

She chuckles. Though it’s kind of disappointing that Coulson only said those things about her being kind and amazing and kind only because he’s drugged up. It felt good to hear it.

“You’re going to be a great SHIELD director,” he is adding now.

Now she smiles, soft, because she knows this is something Coulson would definitively tell her when not-high, if in slightly different words.

“Thank you,” she replies, like always.

He flashes the goofiest smile she’s ever seen him. He’s more than a little high, she gathers. It’s weird seeing him like this, like she’s not supposed to - Daisy knows how private Coulson is, he probably wouldn’t appreciate having his defenses down by force.

“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy,” he says.

“I’m here,” Daisy replies, leaning forward in her seat to meet his eyes.

“ _Daisy_ is a great name,” he says. “Remember when I couldn’t even get it right? What was _that_ all about?”

If she didn’t know better Daisy would say he is giggling. Only softly, still Coulson-like, but a giggle. She remembers it took him longer than anyone to get used to the name change. She never really thought about why, she just accepted it. She also remembers that it made her feel good, that he still called her Skye even after months. Like Skye wasn’t completely gone, like someone remembered her.

“Skye was also a nice name,” Coulson adds and Daisy’s heart skips a beat hearing her old name, and hearing it from him. She really thought she would never again. “If you ever want to go back to using-”

“I’m fine with Daisy for now,” she explains. “But I’ll let you know.”

He nods. His movements are like a parody of his usual demeanor. Like someone had taken Coulson’s gestures and exaggerated them. It would be grotesque, if his smile wasn’t so calm and so nice right now. 

“Daisy, Daisy,” he says again. “I never knew there existed people like you. I don’t think they o. I think it’s just you.”

She thinks this goes beyond funny painkiller talk, and wonders if everything is all right with Coulson. He looks a bit hot, and sweaty.

“Hey, Phil,” she calls, using his first name almost without realizing, feeling a wave of motherly protectiveness for him all of the sudden.

A nurse interrupts them then, walking into the room to check up on his drip.

“Is he okay?” Daisy asks, worried now. “I mean, he’s saying things that are not normal.”

The nurse shrugs. “Each person reacts different to the drugs. I once saw a Sergeant try to take off his clothes and dance when the painkillers kicked in.”

Daisy turns to Coulson. “Don’t do that.”

Coulson nods very solemnly, like he had just received very important orders. It’s kind of funny and cute, him moving his head making his hair even more messy, the little strands going awry. She and the nurse exchange a knowing look before the woman goes away. Daisy guesses she must have seen her fair share of weird shit, working in an army hospital like this one.

“That nurse is nice,” he says, an expression of open fondness as he looks at the closed door from which she exited. “She reminds me of my mother.”

“Was your mother a nurse?” Daisy asks. She’s sure she would remember that detail from when she read his file.

“No,” he says. “She just reminds me of her.”

“Oh.

“My mom was a typist. She typed… things… she typed things.”

“Got it,” Daisy tells him, gently.

“Daisy.”

“That’s still my name. For now.”

He pulls another of those goofy smiles where his eyes narrow a bit and he looks happier than Daisy has ever seen him.

“I’m so in love with you,” Coulson says.

“Okay.”

High, high, he’s high, Daisy reminds herself. He doesn’t mean any of it.

“I mean, how could I not.”

“Coul-”

“I’m so in love with you.”

Suddenly he straightens his back, sitting up on the bed. He stares a Daisy like something has startled him, like a forest animal who has just heard a loud noise.

“It’s okay,” Daisy says, looking for a way to steer him away from this line of thought, before he says something he might get weird and embarrassed about tomorrow.

“It’s not like some dirty thing or anything, I don’t-” he looks pained. “I don’t _do that_. i was your boss and I wanted you in SHIELD and you are wonderful and very sexy but I’m not - I’m not a horrible person.”

“No, of course not,” Daisy says, knowing this is just probably due to the drugs and he doesn’t really mean any of it, but troubled that he might worry her opinion of him could be that. He’s like the least pervy person ever (she should know, sadly). Even saying she is sexy sounds weirdly innocent coming from him.

“It’s not like that,” he repeats, a bit desperate now.

“I know, I know,” Daisy tells her, coming closer and pressing one hand on his chest, trying to settle him, reduce the agitation. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not because…” he gestures towards her. Daisy gives her an amused look, because the gesture has definitely something to do with him thinking she is sexy - yeah, she will never get over that part, even if it’s a lie - and because high!Coulson is kind of endearing in his helplessness. He looks at her very seriously now, locking eyes. “It’s because you have an incandescent soul.”

Daisy swallows.

“Can you excuse me for a moment?” she says.

Coulson looks confused for a moment, but then he nods. 

She slips out of the hospital room for a moment, long enough to locate Mack, already on his way to Coulson’s room.

“I think you should go back to the base,” Daisy tells him.

“But I’m supposed to keep him company next. You should rest.”

Daisy smiles at his kindness.

“Probably,” she agrees. “But Coulson having kind of… a _bad reaction_.”

“A bad reaction?”

“To the painkillers.”

Mack throws a glance towards his door.

“He’s okay. Isn’t he?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. Just saying some weird stuff.”

Mack makes a grossed out face. “What kind of weird stuff?”

“The kind I don’t think he would want witness for,” Daisy explains. “Probably better if it’s just me.”

Her teammate nods. “I get it. Coulson got drunk once with me in Munich. I do not care to repeat the experience. I’ll tell the nurses to keep an eye, if you need something.”

“Thank you.”

But Mack is already turning around, taking out his phone, probably to send Elena a text telling her he’s coming home tonight after all. Daisy watches him go, only a bit envious of that.

_Right_ , she remembers, marching towards the door again.

Coulson is in the same, half-sitting position she left him, looking down at his hands with an anxious expression on his face.

“Hi again,” she says, closing the door behind her.

Coulson gives her a puppy-eyed smile.

“You look like you missed me,” Daisy jokes.

“I always miss you,” he says.

Daisy sighs. As much as she enjoys getting showered in affection by her favorite person in the world she knows this is not real. She knows that despite how Coulson might or might not feel the only reason he is telling her these things are the drugs. She feels like intruding, like she’s taking something from him that is not hers to take. And it’s not like she doesn’t like regular, drug-free Coulson. She loves him. She feels she’s betraying him, enjoying these words he has no control over.

She goes to her and sits at the edge of his bed.

“Sorry,” Coulson says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be saying these… shouldn’t be talking at all.” 

She smiles, patting his hand over the bed covers.

“That’s fine,” she tells him. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

At least the whole deal with him getting high from painkillers and talking nonsense has helped her forget the events of the morning for a while.

“You scared me back there,” she keeps on talking, crossing her legs on the bed. Coulson doesn’t take up much space, does he? She realized how small she was this morning. “I’ve always felt this responsibility, specially after I got my powers. I never wanted to involve anyone in my fights and - don’t look at me like that, I know it’s not like that for you, but now, since I’ve been back in SHIELD, I feel that responsibility even more. And… It’s a good thing you probably won’t remember me saying this because I hate admitting I’m scared but… I was scared. For you and… the team. But mostly you. Watching you go down like you did… it spooked me.”

She only looks up and at Coulson once she finishes. He is staring right back, staring with this new kind of intensity that confuses Daisy. But he looks more sobered up than moments ago.

“I’m scared too,” he says. He reaches for her hand. It’s nice. Well, he’s kind of sweaty and his skin is all hot and feverish but the gesture, Daisy likes the gesture. “I don’t want to leave you. Too many people leave you. I don’t want to be one more.”

He squeezes her hand.

 

**&**

He knocks at her door, half-expecting her to be asleep, knocking soft enough that he wouldn’t disturb her if she were. But he hears a firm - grateful? - _come in_ and he slides the door open.

“How are you feeling?” Coulson asks.

She is tucked in bed, her favorite blanket over her knees, visibly uncomfortable about wearing a sling, and visibly bored.

“I’m hanging in here,” she says.

“The doctors told me you are not supposed to move, or even use a computer for a couple of days. Ouch.”

“Ouch indeed,” she repeats, but she sounds a bit deflated.

He sits on her bed, next to her, as she happily makes room. She doesn’t take up that much, does she? It’s not like she is small - she has big, strong arms and shoulders - but compared to how she looks _out there_ , on the field, when she is Quake, the real up-close Daisy seems almost vulnerable by comparison, specially the way she has of curling into herself, like she’s learned the best way of shrinking her own presence.

“Maybe you should have thought twice before taking that bullet,” he says, glancing at her bandaged arm.

Daisy shrugs the best she can. “You took one for me last week, it was only fair.”

He shows probably insist more that she shouldn’t risk her life like that to get him out of danger; in the back of his mind Coulson is always aware of how little his life matters compared to hers. But he knows it would be useless and cruel telling her that.

Instead he gives you the cup with soup.

Daisy lights up.

“Chicken?”

He nods. “This one I made. I didn’t buy it around the corner.”

She tilts her head towards him.

“You remember that?” she asks.

Coulson takes a breath. He had put off this conversation for a week, which he considers quite the feat and would have been impossible had Daisy not been the most agreeable person he has ever met.

“You’ve been very kind and very sweet, not throwing what happened that night back at me.”

Daisy shrugs, avoiding his eyes.

“I figured since it was just the painkillers, why be selfish and embarrass you like this? And embarrass myself in the process?”

“That’s why you didn’t bring it up?” Coulson protests, in disbelief.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect anything,” she tells him. “You would have told that to anyone.”

“I thought you didn’t bring it up because it bothered you. It grossed you out.”

Daisy snorts. She makes the most amazingly unladylike sounds, Coulson reflects. 

“The greatest guy I know told me I was amazing and sexy, yeah, I was super grossed out.”

All this time Coulson thought she was being kind and careful, because that’s what Daisy does.

“Look, Daisy, all those things I said while I was drugged-”

“It was just because you were drugged, I get it,” she cuts him off.

She is still not meeting his eyes. 

She thinks he only said that stuff because of the painkillers, she thinks they were lies, and she’s _hurting_. He thought that the important thing was never telling her, but he was wrong. The important thing it’s to get her to stop hurting.

“I meant every word,” Coulson tells her, trying.

Daisy finally looks up. Shocked.

“Probably not the way I would have wanted to tell you, though,” he qualifies.

“Would you have told me? Ever?” Daisy asks, sounding a bit annoyed, and like she knows better than he does.

Which, of course, she does.

“No, probably not,” he admits.

Her eyes are hard on him for a moment, then they soften and they narrow in the most wonderful way. She chuckles, throwing her head down. Coulson can feel the whole bed shaking, no pun intended.

Daisy shakes her head. “That’s awful,” she says, still laughing. “You wouldn’t have told me.”

Coulson finds himself chuckling too, at the absurdity and then waste of it, he would have never told her, why? he doesn’t understand, how does one not tell Daisy one loves her? it makes no sense, so Coulson laughs and then he kisses her, pressing his laugher against her mouth, feeling her good hand slide behind him, run through his hair. He’s sure they don’t stop laughing as they kiss, and everything is dizzy and light, like when he was high on painkillers and the words spilled so easily and beautifully because she deserved to be told.

“You said my soul was incandescent,” she tells him when she comes up for air.

Coulson drops his head, groaning in frustration against her neck.

“I formally apologize for that.”

“Don’t,” she says, kissing his eyelids. “I never thought someone could say something like that about me.”

“Then I guess I’m allowed to say more.”

He’s a bit scared because he knows if he starts telling her how he feels about her he might never stop. He should tell her that, too.

Daisy lifts her hand to his cheek.

“Me too,” she tells him.

“You too what?”

“I’m allowed to say things,” she says. 

Coulson gives her a questioning look. She drops her hand from his cheek to his neck, and then to his chest, pressing her fingers gently against it. Coulson wonders if she realizes she is pressing on his scar, his heart.

“I’m in love with you,” she says, the skin of her cheek and nose and ear going dark pink as she talks. “You’re incredible and I never thought I’d be so lucky as to meet someone like you… let alone… let alone…”

She looks like she is about to choke with too much emotion. Coulson smiles, because he always suspected Daisy Johnson was a secret sap. He leans against and brushes his mouth against hers, stopping her words.

“That’s fine,” he tells her. “We’ll have time for all that later.”

He himself doesn’t know what he means by _later_ as he kisses her again, but Daisy seems to take it in a very precise way, judging by the way she uncurls her body on the bed and then curls it again, around Coulson.

Coulson grabs her by the shoulders and pull her away for a moment.

“The doctors ordered bedrest,” he reminds her.

Defiant Daisy takes off her sling so she can loop both arms around Coulson’s neck.

“Hey, _I’m in bed_. Am I not?”

Coulson doesn’t want to disagree.


End file.
